Monday, August 28, 2006

Of Course He's Innocent, I Killed JonBenet Ramsey


Dear Colorado District Attorney,

I'm glad you finally dropped the case against John Mark Karr. I knew from the very beginning that he was innocent and tried to tell you, yet you ignored my calls. Can you finally acknowledge that I was right? Of course he was innocent. How can he have killed JonBenet Ramsey, when I was the murderer??!! Some blamed a redheaded freakshow, while others blamed Mr. Karr. Clearly, though, I was the killer. I think it was pretty clear from the beginning that this was a David Brenner murder scene.

Consider the evidence: this was an unsolved murder and I'm David Brenner. Need I say more? When you think of child killers, doesn't your brain instinctively think of me? Mine does. You know, I've never even killed a child, yet I still think of myself as a child killer. It's funny, you know? I've killed a couple of senior citizens, and one Polish-American immigrant, but never a child. Yet, I instinctively think of myself as a child killer first and comedian second. I'm sure you feel the same way. Right?

In conclusion, thanks again for letting John Mark Karr go. Although I ain't turning myself in. Come and get me. Look for me on the Tonight Show. That's always a good place to find me.

Lovingly,
David Brenner


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Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Don't Worry, Tom Cruise, I'll Hire You


Dear Tom,

Sorry to hear about Paramount dumping you. Guess you had one or two or 45 too many crazy outbursts. I hear ya' though, big guy. When you're a high profile celebrity like you or me (or maybe just you) then the pressure can get to you sometimes. Once the pressure got to me, but then I realized I'm just Jim Belushi and relaxed. You should relax more, you know? Have a Fresca. Eat a taco. I don't know. Just do something to take your mind off of whatever the hell it is that makes you insane. Otherwise, you'll never stop acting like a fool and you'll end up making K-9 II or something. Obviously the 1st one can't be topped (I mean, it starred me), so that would be career suicide for you. But I don't think it will come to that. And here's why:

I'll hire you. That's right, Jim Belushi, star of the stage and screen (or maybe just the screen...or maybe just the screen in my house) will hire you. You see, I'm the linchpin of a little something called According to Jim. You've probably heard of it. Everyone's heard of it. It's the most watched TV show starring a Belushi in the history of TV. Or at least since my brother died and my cat stopped acting in kitty litter commercials. I play a guy who does stuff with a wife who is much hotter than he is. Basically, it's pure fantasy...and that's why I think it's perfect for you. You live in a world of fantasy. I act in one. The match is sublime! Forget about this absolutely humiliating Paramount thing and come work for me on According to Jim. You'll have a blast. We'll drink a beer and talk about people with talent. Wouldn't that be fucking awesome? Yeah, it would.

Call me. I'm Jim Belushi!


Best Regards,
Jim Belushi



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Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Paris Hilton Having Less Sex


Source: Here

Los Angeles, CA (ABSP) - Associated BS Press

After famously pledging one year of celibacy, famed pokebag hotel heiress Paris Hilton appears to be making good on her promise. A new study appearing in Wednesday's Journal of the American Medical Association finds an encouraging decline in the percentage of people infected with the herpes virus. Ms. Hilton, long known for her vacuum-like vagina, had been the leading cause of herpes among males (and females) aged 18-49. The linkage between her recent chastity pledge and the drop-off in herpes is undeniable.

Skeptics had doubted Ms. Hilton's ability to cease consuming of the cock. Dr. Warren S. Warren, respected sexual climatologist had promised to give up his prized and quite valuable wildebeest dingleberry collection if Ms. Hilton remained virginal. With the results of the study undeniably confirming Ms. Hilton's abstinence, Dr. Warren has scheduled a rare fecal-goods auction.

Sources close to the Herpes Queen indicated that she was very happy to read the study, or rather to have it read to her as she's functionally illiterate. No word yet from Nachos Rancheros, although sources close to the famed shipping heir indicate that he's looking forward to breaking Ms. Hilton's pledge and single-handedly restarting the spread of herpes in the U.S.


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Britney Spears Loves Paris Hilton's New Album




Howdy Paris,

I bought your album the other day and it's, like, soooo good! Like, I was listening to it and I just started bawling. Just like you! I know a lot of people don't like your music, and probably cry for a different reason when they hear it, but as I tell K-Fed every day, "Who cares about other people when you're rich!" He usually nods and takes money from my wallet. But I don't care cuz I got lots of it. I'm, like, all fat and white trashy, but I don't care cuz I got me some money, baby! And I birthed me a child, which all cool and stuff.

But gettin' back to your album. I'm cryin' just thinking about it. Holy crap, you can sing like a sweet possum in the summertime. That's what my momma used to say about my sweet voice. Now I sing about my money and my chocolate, both of which K-Fed takes for granted. You know, chocolate don't grow on no trees. Branches do. But I don't eat no branches. Just pork and chocolate. I'm sure you understand. You eat that before throwing up, right?

Anyway, baby, I'm going to go buy 10 more copies of your album. When K-Fed gets back from wherever the hell he goes during the day, he'll drive my ass to the store to get it. Like my granddaddy used to say, we'll be happier than a pie on a fat man's chair. Or maybe K-Fed said that. I don't know. He barely speaks English as is. But he dongs me up every night and that's all I need. You understand. I've seen your video. Gets me hotter than a firecracker in my cooch. I made that expression up, but I'm sure my kids will say it one day!


Keep on singin'.


Love,
Britney Spears


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Friday, August 18, 2006

Wilford Brimley Speaks Out About Cuddling



Thanks to Benjamin Luckett for this week's question. There were a bunch in the last week or two, and Wilford promises to get to them all. Send along a website link if you have one, and we'll link to you. For everyone else, keep your questions coming to the Malodorous Master of Marriages at pleasedoitmshewitt@yahoo.com.

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Dear Wilford,

My wife constantly complains that I don't cuddle enough. I have tried to explain to her that, like Wilford Brimley, I'm a manly man, and I don't have the time or the inclination for that kind of crap. She says it's affecting our ability to be "intimate" and to "express our true emotions for each other". I say she needs to get back in the damn kitchen and finish dinner before she does any more talking.

How do you recommend I deal with this broad?


Sincerely,
Benjamin Luckett



Dear Benjamin Luckett,

Thanks for your God damn question. First of all, you never want to refer to your wife as a broad. She deserves more God damn respect than that. Any woman who's willing to repeatedly let you perform carnal actions on her is worthy of some God damn honor. Call her honey, or sweetie, or even Wilford Brimley. Just don't call her a God damn broad. Do it again and I may have to come over there and box your ears, you God damn young fella'.

Nomen-God-damn-clature aside, I think you have a valid point about the God damn cuddling. I ain't never heard of no marriage based on cuddling, intimacy, or emotions. In my God damn vows, I promised to love, honor, and check the blood sugar levels of my wife until death or diabetic coma do we part. Hell, if on my wedding night I had learned about this cuddling thing you speak of, I probably would have spit out my Quaker Oats oatmeal all over my God damn wife's ass while I was taking her in the Wilford Hole. That's right, I eat oatmeal during sex. It gives me the power I need. You should try it. That's not a request, that's a God damn order.

My suggestion is for you to show your wife who is the God damn man of the house. That doesn't mean you should disrespect her by calling her a broad or other such petty name calling. Alls I'm saying is that after sex you should immediately get out of the God damn bed. Don't waste time with this cuddling or emotions crap. Sex ain't about emotions. Sex is about seed. Your seed. Show her that you are a man with God damn powerful seed. Pull her out of the bed and escort her to the kitchen. Don't let her dress, nor should you either. You should both be in your God damn birthday suits. When you get to the kitchen, stop moving. Point to the kitchen and grunt. Grab your Little Wilfords. Hop up and down and scream like a God damn orangutan. Snort. Grab your Little Wilfords again and point to the kitchen once more. Spit on the ground and beat your chest. Go back to bed.

If that don't help you outta this whole cuddling problem, then I suggest you go and get yourself a new God damn wife. Tell her Wilford Brimley sent you. And make sure she doesn't have The Diabetes. Cuz if she does, then I want her to be my God damn concubine. Get the oatmeal ready.



Pissed Off,
Wilford Brimley


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Thursday, August 17, 2006

Steve Guttenberg Hates Scientists



My name is Steve Guttenberg, and I officially hate all scientists. Hate them with a passion. I have a reason for this hatred. Several, actually.

First, I am the failed product of poorly planned genetic engineering. Contrary to what you may think from watching me act, I am not a robot. I'm only human, of flesh and blood I'm made. However, I do not have a traditional birth mother and father like you other humans. Instead, I was created in a test tube from a multitude of different sperms. This "Guttenberg Milkshake" was then implanted into a carefully selected receptacle whom I now call mom. You know, like the movie Twins. The goal was to create the finest actor ever to walk this earth. The result was Sergeant Mahoney. It's those damn scientists who are to blame.

My second gripe with scientists concerns a recent study about dolphins. In this "study," the "scientist" in question concluded that dolphins are actually dimwits incapable of complex information processing. Oh, I beg to differ. You see, I happen to know a lot about dolphins. I was in Zeus and Roxanne, a movie based on interspecies communication between a dog and a dolphin. Is that complex enough for you? This is why I hate scientists. They make conclusions before even checking all the facts. Maybe if they had watched more of my movies, then we'd be able to put a man on mars, develop fusion, and finally kill-off Dick Clark.

Finally, I hate scientists because Tom Cruise told me to hate them. He promised me a job if I said that, and I really need the work. I'm so broke because I can't act (damn those genetic engineering scientists!), and I'm contemplating eating my foot for sustenance. Damn scientists.


Best Regards,
Steve Guttenberg



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Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Arrest Made In JonBenet Ramsey Case


Source: Here

Boulder, CA (ABSP) - Associated BS Press

A man suspected in the slaying of 6-year-old beauty queen JonBenet Ramsey was arrested Wednesday in Thailand. The man, described as a "funnyman prop comic of the fire crotch variety," was apprehended after several months of complex investigative work by Lenny Rosen chief of the Thailand police force. The suspect was already being held in Bangkok on unrelated sex charges, which is an astounding concept in and of itself. As one cop said, "What the hell do you have to do to be arrested on sex charges in Bangkok? I mean, c'mon."

Sources indicate that the father of the slain child was relieved that someone else was arrested for the murder. John Ramsey was reportedly quoted as saying, "I told you bitches I was innocent! Now I can go out and rape and kill another little girl. I mean, um, I can go out and adopt another little girl. Yeah, adopt." No word yet from Patsy Ramsey, although sources close to the formerly bereaved parent indicated that she had passed away and was unavailable for any type of comment.

No word yet from the alleged fire crotch killer, although he supposedly put his hair in pigtails and threatened to stop by a Wendy's restaurant to make all the employees nervous. Although the red-headed trouble-maker had no previous criminal record, sources contend that he had undergone a freakish transformation, which may have led to his alleged crime.



[Ed. Note: Sorry about the lack of posting....I was moving from NYC to Boston. More about that later...]


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Monday, August 14, 2006

I Love Trash!



Oh, I love trash!
Anything dirty or dingy or dusty
Anything ragged or rotten or rusty
Yes, I love trash

I have here a sneaker that's tattered and worn
It's all full of holes and the laces are torn
A gift from my mother the day I was born
I love it because it's trash

I Love Trash!
Anything dirty or dingy or dusty
Anything ragged or rotten or rusty
Yes, I love trash

I have here some newspaper thirteen months old
I wrapped fish inside it; it's smelly and cold
But I wouldn't trade it for a big pot o' gold!
I love it because it's trash

Oh, I love trash!
Anything dirty or dingy or dusty
Anything ragged or rotten or rusty
Yes, I love trash

I've a clock that won't work
And an old telephone
A broken umbrella, a rusty trombone
And I am delighted to call them my own!
I love them because they're trash

Oh, I love trash!
Anything dirty or dingy or dusty
Anything ragged or rotten or rusty
Yes, I love, I love, I love trash!


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Friday, August 11, 2006

8 Simple Rules For Running In Central Park



Dear Fans and Friends,

I know there are tons of "top 10" lists out there describing running etiquette and what not. Too bad, here's another one.


8 Simple Rules for Running in Central Park:

8. Never, ever let the fat middle-aged guy pass you, especially if he's wearing a headband and using a 1980s walkman. Watch out, they're deceptively fast.

7. If you're running against the wind, never let the anorexic girl pass you. She has a hard enough time just moving forward against the wind, so if she passes you....you're a slow fuck and you better rethink that diet plan.

6. Pass other runners only on the left or right or directly through them if they're going really fucking slow.

5. If you're a 6'3" well-tanned Asian male with bulging biceps, rippling pecs, and dreamy hair...you're not allowed to run during daylight hours when every damn woman in the park can stare at you when you run by (you know who you are, asshole).

4. There is a mandatory body fat maximum for all male runners who wish to run shirtless and female runners who wish to run in sports bras. Anything goes for transvestites.

3. There is only one acceptable direction for running around the reservoir. Violators will be pushed in. There are appropriate times to go against accepted norms (e.g., punk music, anal sex, being a non-Jewish agent in Hollywood). This isn't one of those times.

2. If you're an attractive female with a smoking body who likes to run in short-shorts and a sports bra...you must be 18 or over. Otherwise, well, c'mon. It's not fair.

1. If a biker is silently zooming by you at 700 mph and you happen to move a little to your right without knowing he's coming because, of course, he didn't warn you or anything, and he happens to veer off into traffic and get hit by a car...so be it. Bikers are the biggest hazards in all of Central Park and deserve any fate that befalls them. As Ivan Drago would say, "If he dies, he dies." Fuck him.


That is all. Happy running, America and sometimes Canada.


Best Regards,
Concerned Fan


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Thursday, August 10, 2006

A Message to Robin Williams From AA



Dear Robin,

Sorry to hear about your little drinky-drinky relapse. It just goes to show you that stopping cold turkey never works at anything. I tried to quit smoking once, but that only lasted a week. I tried to quit beating my wife last year, but was at it again in no time. And just last week I tried to stop renting Rudy, but I couldn't help myself and had to watch it when it was on HBO today. The point is, AA works for a reason, and if you don't use it you'll never quit drinking. It's good that you're off to a "rehab" center this time, but just ask Robert Downey Jr. how well those things work out. Yeah, that's what I thought.

Anyway, to help you overcome your drinking problem, I've been nice enough to give you 12 steps to follow. Yes, these steps differ a bit from our usual 12-step program, but in your case I think you need it. Follow these and your life will regain some order again.


1. Get some new "improv" material. Sorry, but referencing the movies Sybil or the Fly, just doesn't cut it anymore. Oh, and the black-person-speaking-jive joke? As David Spade would say - the 1980s called and they want their joke back.

2. Convert to Scientology. Having a stress test from them could calm you down. Who knows, maybe all those voices you do are just Thetans trying to escape from your body.

3. Two words for you - Flubber sequel.

4. Become Kosher. Trust me, after 1 week of Manischewitz wine, you'll never want to drink again. It's the only wine that has to be dispensed like a ketchup bottle.

5. Have sex with Wilmer Valderrama. It may not necessarily help you, but hell, everyone else is doing it.

6. Start doing cocaine again. You were much funnier and cooler when you were on coke. Here at AA we only care about alcoholism. Wanna be a drug addict? Go knock yourself out.

7. Wax off your massive quantity of body hair. Hirsute men have a much higher prevalence of alcoholism. See also: Mel Gibson, Salma Hayek

8. Watch the E! True Hollywood Story about Leif Garrett. If that doesn't scare you straight about the dangers of alcoholism, I don't know what will. Even if it doesn't scare you straight, you should still watch it. His life SUCKS and it inevitably will make you feel better about yourself.

9. Two more words: Flubber Trilogy

10. Go on a damn treadmill. That look you got going on? Can't be good for confidence. I'm surprised your wife isn't the alcoholic. If I had to see you with your shirt off everyday, I'd sure as hell be a fall-down drunk.

11. Submit yourself to a higher power. If G-d doesn't work for you, try Michael Ovitz.

12. Apologize to your friends and family and take responsibility for your actions. When that's done, tell everyone how much money you make. Then show them the money. Rub it all over yourself. Lick it. Laugh at them. That should help you feel better about yourself.


Hopefully these 12 steps will help you on your path to recovery. If not, well, sorry. Guess it sucks to be you. Cheers!


Best of Luck,
Alcoholics Anonymous


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Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Jake Gyllenhaal To Star In New Movie Called: I'm Not Gay And Let Me Prove It By Having Sex With Your Girlfriend Or Sister




Los Angeles, CA (ABSP) - Associated BS Press

Jake Gyllenhaal, star of the critically acclaimed gay cowboy movie, Brokeback Mountain, is slated to star in a new movie proclaiming his total and utter "non-gayness." The new movie, called I'm Not Gay And Let Me Prove It By Having Sex With Your Girlfriend Or Sister, stars Gyllenhaal as a renegade pirate biker astronaut named Panther Rogers who rides from town to town, sleeping with the hot women in the town and solving mysteries. He's assisted in the movie by his virile and very heterosexual sidekick Puma Sanders, played by the great Lorenzo Lamas. Together they form a formidable team known only as "Straight."

Since the release of Brokeback Mountain, Gyllenhaal has been dogged by jokes about his masculinity. At the recent ESPY awards, Lance Armstrong made a now infamous joke about Mr. Gyllenhaal, and then later blew him backstage. To dispel the rumors, Mr. Gyllenhaal accepted the lead role in the new movie, and then proceeded to have sex with every female cast member, even though there weren't any. He has even gone so far as to promote his new movie as a male movie of Hasselhoff proportions, a bold proclamation to be sure.

Sources indicate that Gyllenhaal was not the first choice for the movie, but insisted on getting the part after being hit on by Kevin Spacey, Lance Bass, and the entire cast of Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. Sources close to the movie also indicate that the original title was a more pedestrian "Attack Of The Killer People" but was later changed after Mr. Gyllenhaal ripped off his shirt in anger and beat his chest repeatedly.

No word yet from Natalie Portman, who is reportedly dating Mr. Gyllenhaal, although sources close to the actress indicate that she's unhappy about the movie and is looking forward to Jake's next role in Brokeback Mountain II: No Really, I'm Gay...Seriously.



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Monday, August 07, 2006

Wilford Brimley Speaks Out About Wiping



Thanks to Ben for this week's question. Actually, there were two from him plus one from Amy in Alabama (send along a website if you have one), which Wilford promises to answer this week or by Monday at the latest. Until then, keep those questions coming to pleasedoitmshewitt@yahoo.com.

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Dear Mr. Brimley,

You mentioned the editor wipes his ass with his left hand (ed. note: I don't...he's lying!), which I agree is simply nuts. I wanted to know more about your wiping habits. Do you wipe sitting down? If so, do you pull your balls out of the way with your left hand, or just go for it? Are you a ‘stand-up wiper?’ If so, do you ever prop your leg up on the bowl so you can really get in there? Also, are your balls so saggy now that you have to worry about them hitting the water?

I know you’re thinking I want to know way too much information about your ass and balls, but I’ve always struggled with my own strategies. I used to be a stander, but now I’ve shifted to a sitting role. I’m already worried about my balls hitting the water too—I can’t imagine old age improves that dilemma.

Ben



Dear Ben,

Thanks for your God damn question. I gotta tell ya', you are one strange young fella'. Frankly, I'm a bit nervous about the interest you have in my ass and balls. Hell, I haven't had this much interest in my balls since the God damn Korean War. Sure, my wife likes 'em fine, but she ain't never sent no God damn e-mail about them. Once she sent me a telegram about them, but that was pretty common back in my day. You kids wouldn't know anything about that, because of your God damn MTV and cell phones and battery-powered vibrators. You're always distracted. So much so that you sometimes neglect The Diabetes, and that's a God damn shame. If you don't get your God damn blood sugar tested, you ain't worth my time.

Anyway, seeing as you're so interested in my God damn ass and balls, I'll tell ya' how I wipe. Sitting on the toilet, left to right in slightly circular counter-clockwise fashion. You can print that in your God damn NY Times, you damn hippie bastard. I don't need to pull my balls out of the way. I just give 'em a stern lookin' at and they suck into my God damn body. When I'm done, I just say "release" and they pop out with a "thwop" noise. Sometimes they hit the water, but most of the time they just hang out like a God damn teenager at a 7-11. They used to hit the water more frequently, but The Diabetes has shrunk them a bit over time. It's a good thing too, as I used to have God damn donkey balls.

So does that help you at all, you damn pervert? I'm supposed to be using this forum to provide God damn relationship advice, but I don't know what this has to do with relationships. Maybe your wife married you for your wiping habits. Maybe she married you in spite of them. Hell, maybe she married you because your "warrior" looks like a syringe for insulin injectin'. Frankly, I don't care. What's important is that you not let my balls affect your God damn marriage. Trust me, they will if you keep talkin' about them. Just shut up, go home and make sweet, sweet love to your wife. Tell her Wilford Brimley sent you.


Pissed Off,
Wilford Brimley


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Friday, August 04, 2006

Anonymous Lawyer



Hey Everyone,

Taking a break from mindless posting about celebrity tripe for 1 second to blatantly promote my friend's book:

Anonymous Lawyer, by Jeremy Blachman

Jeremy and I used to write sketch comedy together at Princeton (oops...I've revealed a bit of my origin), and I've always been a big fan of his work. He started his satirical blog anonymouslawyer.blogspot.com way back in 2004, and I'm telling you, just read it for one week and you'll be hooked. The book is just as funny. If not funnier. Also, it's written in blog-form (one of the first), so you fellow bloggers may especially appreciate it.

Basically, if you are a lawyer, have a lawyer friend/family member, or watch Boston Legal with the zeal of John Goodman sizing up an all-you-can-eat pudding buffet, then check this book out. I've put links to his sites below, as well as a link to reviews about the book. Enjoy.


http://anonymouslawyer.blogspot.com/
http://anonymouslawfirm.com/
http://anonymouslawfirm.com/book.php?text_id=Reviews


If you like the book, link to it!

-CF

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Lindsay Lohan To Reform Partying Ways




Dear World,

I'm ready to turn over a new leaf. Getting a scolding from Morgan Creek Productions, and being dropped by Island Records has served as a wake up call. My party days are over. Sorta. Maybe. I think. Probably.

To show you how sincere I am, I have outlined 5 steps that I will take to ensure that I become a more responsible person. I promise you'll love me again after you see me do these things. I can be your beloved, chesty, freckled, and vomiting Teen Queen again! Just give me one more chance. I know you've already given me 10,000 chances, but that's really only average in Hollywood. Just ask Robert Downey Jr. Okay, the steps:


1. I promise to shorten my crazy nights out. From now on, I will abide by a strict curfew enforceable by electric shock. If I am not in my trailer/hotel room by 4:00 AM each day after a night out, then you can shock me. Okay, maybe that's a little excessive. 4:30 AM.

2. I promise not to be late to photo-shoots or movie sets or any other commitments. Of course, this includes a customary 3 hour window after my expected arrival time. But, c'mon, that's to be expected. It's not like this is Nazi Germany, much to Mel Gibson's dismay.

3. I promise not to get drunk and sleep around town. Or at least not on Wednesdays.

4. I promise not to let my eating disorder get in the way of filming schedules. To prevent bulimia-related dehydration, I will be sure to have a glass of water after I throw up. To prevent anorexia-related fainting, I will be sure and eat at least 7...no...8 Wheat Thins before starting filming in the morning. This should help a lot.

5. I promise never to hug Jeremy Piven again. This should be self-explanatory.


Seriously, by following these 5 steps, I'll become a respected Teen Queen again. You'll love me, once again, I just know it! Speaking of love, I gotta go now. It's been a few hours since I had a drink and I'm starting to shake. Wouldn't want to go into withdrawal...that'll just delay filming!


Love,
Lindsay Lohan


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Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Jennifer Love Hewitt Owes Me A Refund



Dear Ms. Hewitt,

You owe me a refund. I trusted you and you let me down in a profound way. Pro-found. Only because you are...well...you will I forgive you. If you were just a regular ole big-bosomed star, say Scarlett Johansson or Jessica Simpson or Jonathon Taylor Thomas, then I would be enraged with anger. But since you are...well...you, then I will forgive you.

Your offense? The Truth About Love. This was, single-handedly, the worst movie ever made in the history of this crazy thing we call humankind. The worst. There is no equal in its putridity. I've seen Ishtar, Battlefield Earth, Showgirls, Pearl Harbor, and Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, but this one tops them all. For some reason beyond comprehension, my fiance convinced me to rent this. And now? Our relationship is practically in shambles. Thanks entirely to your movie.

I guess my problem with it is everything. The score, the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the cinematography...I could continue but my hand is getting sore from typing. I would go into details, but I fear my computer would melt from the sheer ridiculousness of the descriptions. That's how bad the movie is - it melts computers. Yes, I know it set records in South Korea. But...well...uh...that's South Korea. You see what I'm saying?

So due to the injuries inflicted upon my brain from your movie I demand a refund. However, instead of monetary reparations, I demand payment in the form of you going topless. That's right, you now OWE it to me and the 65 non-South Koreans who viewed this travesty of a sham of two mockeries of a sham of a movie. My eyes have been scarred by this film, and I demand that you un-scar them by showing me your jubblies. In return for starring in this awful movie I demand your meat puppets to be shown. Show them, Ms. Hewitt! Anything else would be unjust.

I urge you, Ms. Hewitt, to make the right choice. Forget advancing your career through the art of nudity. I just want to see some boobs in Playboy as compensation for my trouble. Is that really too much to ask?


Best Regards,
A Concerned Fan


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Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Wilford Brimley Speaks Out About Sugar Tits



No questions again this week. Sigh. Don't worry, though, our good friend Wilford Brimley always has something on his mind when it comes to relationships. But keep those questions coming to pleasedoitmshewitt@yahoo.com or he may just stab you with an insulin needle.

*******
Dear America and Sometimes God Damn Canada,


It seems that Mel Gibson has gone and done a God damn stupid thing. Not only did that dumb young fellow go and get hisself drunk and then drive, he went on a God damn anti-Semitic tirade. Now as you know I have no God damn patience for religious hatred. Many of my doctor friends over at Liberty Medical are Jewish people. They're great God damn people and they saved my life many times over with their blood testin' supplies. Hell, my friend over here at this God damn website (ed note: he means me) is Jewish and I ain't got no problems with him. He's a bit weird and he uses his left hand to wipe his ass, which is God damn insane, but I like him just fine. So by tarnishin' the Jewish people, you're tarnishin' my friends and therefore me. Son, I don't think you want the God damn hurt that I can put on you. So think about that the next time you want to besmirch a people.

That aside, I did think one thing you said was worth repeatin' as it's a great God damn thing to use in a relationship. I notice you called a female police officer "Sugar Tits." That's a hell of an inappropriate thing to call an officer of the law, but it's a great thing to call your wife in bed. Sometimes, when I'm givin' my wife a good poundin' in the Wilford Hole, I tell her she's a good Sugar Tits. Sometimes she says it to me. It don't matter. What matters is that it's said, and it's a hell of an affectionate thing to call a lover during a passionate embrace. I ain't no medical doctor, but I'd be willing to bet my testin' supplies that anybody who calls their lover Sugar Tits has a God damn successful relationship. It's especially useful if you have The Diabetes, as I do, as it it'll create such a God damn adrenaline rush as to regulate your blood sugar. Trust me, I know The Diabetes.

So if you're in a good relationship but want to take it up to the next God damn level, be sure and call your God damn loved one Sugar Tits. She'll thank you, I'll thank you, and Mel may even thank you. If he ain't too drunk to respond. Damn young fellow.



Pissed Off,
Wilford "Sugar Tits" Brimley


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Original JLH petition


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